Love Song of Separation
by psychedoubt
Summary: Pam sent Tara away out of fear. Their bond had grown and expanded to a level that Pam no longer knew how to face. /With what heartache do we know that lets our feet walk us in circles back to that which makes us weak?/


_Last night I was moved to tears by Candice Glover's performance of "Lovesong" by The Cure on American Idol (go watch it on YouTube if you didn't see it). While watching her sing, a poem came out of me faster than I could write it. I liked it so much that I decided to write a Tamela one shot surrounding and including the poem today. This is the result._

_I don't usually write this fast, so this is unusual for me. I was also experimenting with a different voice and enjoyed this style. I really appreciate feedback to know what you think and feel, so please leave a few words if you can. Thank you for reading._

* * *

Pam sent Tara away. It wasn't out of rage. It wasn't out of anger. It wasn't out of a cutting, cold remark to the one she held closer than humanly possible. Tara had grown used to that side of Pam. She knew her self-indulgent mood swings all too well and was perfectly capable of withstanding the tornado of emotions that frequently tore through the bond.

Sometimes Tara played a good defense, bantering in rhythmic sarcasm with wordplay at its finest. This pleased Pam, knowing she could not scare her progeny away. Sometimes Tara used patience, and stared amused at Pam as her maker fired off insults harsh enough to penetrate the thickest skin. This confused Pam, wondering how anybody who loved her could find her funny in such a ruthless state. And then, sometimes Tara had compassion. Her care for Pam grew in intensity and the bond hummed stronger as she watched Pam fall backwards into a sea of regret; drowning in vengeance she did not wish to speak and in love she did not know how to feel. This scared Pam.

It was out of fear. Pam sent Tara away out of fear. Their bond had grown and expanded to a level that Pam no longer knew how to face. It followed an intense night of lovemaking. The intensity of their sex was something they always approached with both hunger and trepidation: they craved it and they feared it. As they pressed skin to skin, flesh to flesh, and rode out their simultaneous orgasms that night, Tara felt something pierce inside Pam. It was as if something cracked in her chest and color bled, leaking into her veins. Tara looked into the fear that filled Pam's ocean blue eyes. She leaned in and kissed Pam's soft, cushioned lips with tenderness, wanting to drink her pain away. Tara was scared too. She knew she had a rare effect on Pam that exposed a side of her maker neither of them knew exactly how to care for. But Tara had complete love and faith in Pam and knew she could withstand whatever came their way. Pam was not as sure.

The two vampires lay intertwined in silence for several long moments following the indescribable release. Dark chocolate legs tangled with porcelain white limbs; a yin and yang of passion connected as one. Finally, Pam spoke.

"It won't stop," she said quietly, staring at the ceiling.

"What won't stop?" Tara asked, looking at Pam's desperate gaze.

"The pain. Or, this pressure."

"What hurts?" Tara didn't have to ask. She felt it too. She lifted herself and looked down at Pam. She took her ebony hand and placed it on Pam's chest where the bond danced.

"You."

They were apart for one month.

xxx

Pam convinced herself she was fine. She even convinced herself she was happy at times. She could bark at and bite whomever she wished without feeling the onslaught of feelings that came towards her from Tara's end of the bond. Pam and Tara had become so close that it was impossible for either vampire to say or do anything without feeling the others' reaction. With Tara gone, Pam was able to indulge in her cold, heartless ways and felt she was the self she had been for over one hundred years before Tara. But Pam wasn't happy. She was enabled. She was living life safely, careful not to let anybody brush up against the thorns that lined her heart; the thorns that Tara touched, and had the ability to remove if she would let her.

But she did miss her. She missed the way Tara looked at her with admiration as though she was her whole world. She missed the way Tara talked to her, her words splashing colors of emotions through Pam that painted an abstract masterpiece of an image she couldn't define. She missed the way Tara touched her. In fact, she fought nightly the dreams she imagined of the electricity between them. _It's a fucking illusion. It only leads to pain. _This is what Pam told herself. Pam was wrong.

Tara stayed at Sookie's house. She spent the days in the light-tight basement den and spent the nights out wandering, thinking, and feeding. There was not much distance between Tara and Pam. They were in the same town. She could feel Pam's presence and didn't worry about her safety. She knew if Pam was in trouble she could be there for her in an instant. She knew this was temporary. She wasn't mad at Pam. She knew she needed space. She would come around. _Right?_

Tara's confidence in their reunion waned with each week. She felt Pam's strength through the bond. Pam was not hurting. Pam was strong. Pam was reverting back to her cold, emotionally vacant self and thriving. She felt her maker curse and it made her smile. She felt her feed and she wished she could share the meal. She didn't feel her fuck. Thank God, she didn't feel her fuck.

But after a month went by, Tara realized that Pam _could_ live without her. Pam loved Tara dearly and needed to know that she was okay. But with the bond intact she could keep track of her wellbeing. The bond kept the love alive; empty and hollow, but alive. Pam was able to survive on the bare minimum of emotional depth necessary to maintain the maker-progeny relationship without suffering the pain from the pressure that swelled from the intimacy between them. She felt pain, but it was an emptiness with which she was more familiar in coping. This did not satisfy Tara.

Tara missed her maker with every ounce of her being. She had allowed herself to accept this situation as temporary, but as she felt Pam's emotions disappear and façade return she feared losing the Pam she knew and loved. They had come so far together. They had pushed the limits of the bond to a devastatingly profound level that it was too valuable to lose now. Pam had come so far, had grown so much, and had changed so tenderly, if only for Tara. But Tara felt her heart slipping out of her hands. While she had waited each day for a month for Pam to summon her, she knew that day was not going to come. She knew if she did not fight for Pam, that Pam would let her go.

xxx

Tara waited until after closing to return home to Pam. She took her key from her pocket and unlocked the door to the bar and walked in. As she stepped inside she saw Pam sitting on a stool at the bar running the numbers for the night. She felt a small trail of fear come through the bond and she wasn't sure if it was from her or her maker.

Pam didn't acknowledge Tara. She didn't need to look to know who it was. The familiar scent of honey came through the door. Pam swallowed hard and slowly blinked her eyes once, registering the level of change in the bond from Tara's physical presence.

Tara walked into the bar, keeping her distance and staying behind Pam. She sat on a table, feet propped on a chair, shoulders slouched forward with her elbows on her thighs and her hands clasped together. She stared at the back of Pam's head. Deep soulful eyes gazed intently at the labyrinth of golden tresses. She knew every curl by heart, and longed to trace the paths of locks that trailed from Pam's head to the small of her back. She yearned to touch her out of love, out of compassion, and out of forgiveness. Tara was learning a new lesson about what it meant to love Pam.

Silence between them. Pam pretended to work. Then Tara spoke.

"Did the pain go away?" she asked in a low tone.

Pam paused, registering the warm sound of Tara's voice. "Yes. You should stay away," she answered in a dull, monotonous tone.

This was a lie. There was no sense in lying between them. Pam always appeared unemotional and dry. One would question whether she could feel anything at all. Even a human with the finest senses would assume an emotional response from Pam, only to be left completely blindsided and confused at her seeming lack of humanity. But Tara knew differently, only because of the bond. Without the bond Tara would have no sense of the pain in Pam, the fear in Pam, the love in Pam.

"I don't know why you even bother lying to me," she said, staring at the rigid body that would not turn to face her.

Pam was annoyed. "Fuck, Tara. You are like a disease I can't get rid of. Get the hell out!" Pam had hardened with Tara's absence.

"Oh, suck me. I am not a disease to remedy, Pam!" Tara played the defensive card for now, playing on Pam's own words. This was the easiest way for Pam to fight and she knew it was what Pam needed. Tara stood up and walked across the room until she was standing behind her maker.

"Get the fuck out!" Pam gritted her teeth in frustration, eyes still lowered at the papers in front of her on the bar.

Inches behind her maker, Tara spoke in a calm, gentle tone, words that had come to her during their time apart.

_"with what longing do we speak? _

_with what heartache do we know that lets our feet _

_walk us in circles back to that which makes us weak? _

_your voice a love song that echoes a warm beat._

_we trail behind love so it does not see us weep. _

_inhaling frigid air of fear from which between us seeps. _

_longing for the inferno that tempts us in our sleep. _

_dreaming of an intangible forever, together we can keep."_

Tara reached out her right hand and pulled Pam's hair to the side, gently grazing the side of Pam's neck with the back of her fingernails. Tara knew this was a risky move and did not know what to expect from Pam. She was prepared to either block a blur of wrath upon her, or clean a puddle of blood tears.

Pam was in shock. Tara's words seemed to catch in her own throat, as if she could have spoken them herself. It was an unsettling feeling to have Tara speak of her as if she knew her better than she knew herself. And, the contact of Tara's skin sent a trail of fast-moving light through Pam. Maker and progeny had not touched for one month, and the dying fire in her chest was starved for a flame to ignite it. An explosion of heat surged within both of them. White light blinded their senses as passion beat through their hearts and pulsed between their legs.

Pam turned on her stool and faced Tara, legs spread to receive Tara as her child pounced at the invitation. Tara straddled Pam and held her face between her hands. Pam gripped Tara's waist, as blood tears spilled down her ivory face.

"It hurts more when you're here," Pam cried, lifting one hand to trace the side of Tara's cheek.

"It won't forever. We'll get through it. Don't be afraid." Tara answered with words of comfort for them both.

Tara leaned in to kiss Pam, hands roaming and caressing her lover's form. She felt the bond surge between them and knew they would be starting right where they left off. Pam cried beneath the kiss, heart aching from the motion of energy aroused within her. But Tara's touch provided eternal warmth and safety in a way that Pam would never know from another.

"It's okay." Tara kissed her. "It's okay." She kissed her again.

And, this time, Pam believed her.


End file.
